Stoned

Fourteen years ago this week we moved into Willow House. I had a seven month old baby, a five year old daughter, three dogs (one incontinent and mad), a ginger tom, no electricity, heating or hot water. That Hallowe'en I put the children in the one bed we had, came downstairs and drank a bottle of pinot noir by candlelight as the trick or treaters hammered on the door and the dogs howled.

That autumn we began laying the cobbles for our path bringing them up from the nearby river a few at a time. We'd lug them home and dump them in the garden and before long we had enough for this path. It rained today, then sunshine, then more rain. The low light on them always makes me stop and admire their beauty.